It's Not.
by Nikapi
Summary: An old face compares POVs with the Sunnydale’s resident slayer. S6, set anytime before, lets say, 'As You Were' - and no, there's no Riley here, folks.


Title: It's Not  
Author: Nikapi  
Summary: An old face compares POVs with the Sunnydale's resident slayer.  
Disclaimer: Buffy, and all the 'Buffy' characters mentioned here, belong to Joss, ME, & the guys are Fox. I'm just borrowing them.  
Distribution: If you want it, take it. Please just drop me an E-mail and tell me where it is, though J  
Notes: My very first (mostly) dialogue fic. One of those annoying ideas that wouldn't go away, and I hit a block (already! Sob.) with SotP. Reviews are so much fun - please leave some?  
  
--   
  
"When'd you get back?"  
  
"Couple of days ago. Xander's had my number for a while. Just in case."  
  
"Xander called you?"  
  
"Yeah. I guess this is an in case."  
  
"Huh."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So, I guess you've been all caught up, then."  
  
"The dead thing? More or less. Wasn't actually what he called about, though."  
  
"What did he call about?"  
  
"Nothing important. So, heaven. Nice place?"  
  
"The nicest."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"You didn't do it."  
  
"I would have helped."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"How's Dawn?"  
  
"She never really existed, and you've never met her. I'm sure you've heard."  
  
"I have. So, she's fine, then?"  
  
"More or less. Why would you have helped?"  
  
"Remember a few years ago, when Faith tried to kill us?"  
  
"Vaguely."  
  
"You tried to help her."  
  
"That I did."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Is there a point to this?"  
  
"I promise."  
  
"I thought she could be - I don't know. Fixed."  
  
"She was."  
  
"Not by me."  
  
"It matters?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"Huh. So, the point."  
  
"The point."  
  
"You didn't think about what she wanted."  
  
"Not following."  
  
"I mean, you didn't - we didn't - think about if maybe she just really wanted to work for the Mayor. At first. It was about what we - you - thought was best for her."  
  
"Not entirely liking the idea that I dictated everyone's opinions on what was best."  
  
"Because it's false, or because it's not?"  
  
"We're talking about Faith, not me."  
  
"No, we're talking about you. We can stop talking about you and Faith."  
  
"Lets."  
  
"If Willow was being tortured by some demon, would you do anything to help her? Or Xander, or Giles?"  
  
"In high school, or now?"  
  
"I'm going to ignore that."  
  
"Yeah, I would. In a heart beat."  
  
"What if they just possibly being hurt? Still anything?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"Just the slightest chance of Willow-Hurt. Anything?"  
  
"I do see where you're going with this you know."  
  
"I know."  
  
"It's different."  
  
"It really isn't."  
  
"They pulled me out of heaven."  
  
"They thought you were in hell."  
  
"I wasn't."  
  
"Neither were they, so they didn't know."  
  
"They should have checked."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I don't know. They should have found a way."  
  
"You wouldn't have."  
  
"We've been through this. It's different."  
  
"I don't think it is."  
  
"You weren't there."  
  
"Doesn't matter. Guess it depends on your point of view."  
  
"My point of view says they didn't bother to see if they were wrong. They just did. Like always."  
  
"My point of view says they did exactly what you would have done. If you thought there was even the slightest chance Willow, or Xander, or Giles, or Dawn, was suffering in some demon dimension, you would have done anything to get them out. Even pull them from heaven. You wouldn't have thought."  
  
"Stop saying that. Stop telling me I would have done it, too."  
  
"It bothers you?"  
  
"Yeah, it does."  
  
"Because it's false, or because it's not?"  
  
Throughout the conversation, Buffy had always had answers. Even if she wasn't entirely willing to say them out loud, she never found herself at a loss of response. Now, she did. Of course it was false. It was. She would have thought. She would have been sure before she did anything.  
  
No, she wouldn't have.  
  
Beside her, her companion rose to his feet, shrugging his coat on.  
  
"I'll be in town for a few days. Maybe we'll patrol. Old times sake."  
  
"That'd be nice."  
  
"Night, Buffy."  
  
"Bye, Oz."  
  
The werewolf started towards the Magic Box's front door, hands in his pocket. At the threshold, he stopped, turning to face her away, trademark blank expression replaced with a slightly skeptical one.  
  
"Oh - Buffy?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"…Spike?"  
  
His eyebrows rose slightly as their gazes locked for a moment, hers one of disbelief, his one of barely suppressed amusement. Wordlessly, he broke the stare, and left the shop, bell above the door jangling.  
  
How had he known? Xander certainly didn't tell him, and Willow didn't know he was back. Tara…no, never Tara.  
  
Frowning, Buffy turned, taking a few steps towards the back room. She stopped abruptly.  
  
The wolf. Oz could smell it. He could probably smell Spike all over her.  
  
Dammit. 


End file.
